Frisk was extremely nervous. Their plan seemed solid. It seemed like it honestly should work. They’d tried so many other things and had stalled out. It had been over a month since their partial success, and nothing else had worked.

And the thing Alphys had said, about forging a bond through sex, sounding as though it were more tangible than normal emotional connections…

Frisk took a steadying breath.

They’d told Sans they wanted to meet him privately to discuss something, and they didn’t know how long the discussion would take. They’d told Flowey that the scheduled time of the meeting might be a good time to sleep.

Just in case Sans agreed and was interested in trying right away.

They felt a… rather pleasant sort of clenching feeling and tried to push it away.

They were in Sans’ house, with Papyrus off on some little adventure, with no plans to return till late. The three of them had become friends fully to the “come in the house whenever” level, and didn’t even bother knocking anymore. Sans and Papyrus were always welcome at Toriel’s house, where Frisk lived, too.

Sans hadn’t happened to be home this time and had said they could either show up on time, or wait for him there. He was never late for meetings, but he did have a habit of showing up exactly on time. At least, for anything that felt “business” related - he was more likely to show up early for anything that was more fun.

In any case, it was five minutes until their agreed meeting time.

For those five minutes, Frisk desperately tried to settle their thoughts. They were unsuccessful.

With a faint sound, Sans abruptly appeared. He looked the same as he always did, save for the look of blended concern and amusement on his face. A weirdly mutable skull with lights flickering in his eye sockets that could express a wide range of emotions. The trick to reading his expressions was always his eyes, as he otherwise simply looked like he was smiling or grinning. The blue jacket that he loved, hanging loosely on his frame. A frame that always seemed a little bulky, considering there was a literal skeleton underneath. Comfy, long shorts. He often wore “shoes” of the comfiest possible kind - slippers. Other times, he wore sneakers. Today was a purple bunny slippers day.

“so,” Sans said. “what’s all this about?”

Maybe they could just do more of the dying trials? Those were fine. It was way easier to ask Sans to kill them than to… than to…

Hell, they couldn’t even think it out loud in their own head.

They swallowed.

“I… had an idea a while ago,” they said. “It… as far as I can tell, from learning some things from Alphys, it really seems promising. Especially combined with what we’d learned from our success, with the impressions lingering between resets. We’ve been kind of trying some things that didn’t seem as likely as this to work, but, um…”

“but you hesitated to mention it,” Sans said.

“Y-yes,” Frisk said. “Um. I… I don’t… uh… trust my judgment in this. Um. I’m not… objective about this idea. At all. A-and I know, um, that I c-can be blind sometimes, in the, uh, right circumstances…”

“pretty sure whatever it is you’ve thought of, you’ve already done worse,” Sans said dryly, an amused glint in his eyes. He chuckled at their half-hearted glare before saying, “go on, spit it out.”

Frisk covered their face with their hands and took a breath.

“I… in the long reset timeline, I… sort of… fell into a conversation with Alphys, and, uh, I found something out,” they stammered.

“that was months ago,” Sans said.

“Y-yes, but I didn’t put things together until the success with the lingering impressions,” Frisk said. “But, uh, the idea being that, um, we n-need to forge a bond between us, right? With the soul absorption being one angle, one that wasn’t quite enough. Another way to forge a bond, or strengthen a bond, was needed. And, I-I… okay, damn, this is hard… I asked Alphys about… about…”

Frisk choked and turned away. They couldn’t look at Sans while they said this. They took a breath, braced themself, and forced the words out in a single, long breath.

“I asked Alphys about the practical considerations of a sexual relationship between humans and monsters, and one of the many things I learned was that there was a magic thing in the process that could forge a bond of some kind.”

There was silence for a moment.

“so lemme get this straight,” Sans asked, his tone amused. “as the next in a series of trials to get me to remember the resets, you want me to have sex with you.”

“I’m gonna die,” Frisk said, covering their face. “I can’t… this… this was a mistake, can I just reload and this conversation never happen…”

“no,” Sans said directly. “i don’t want this conversation erased.”

“Understood,” Frisk said, their voice a bare whisper.

They managed to glance at him in the silence, but couldn’t bear to keep their gaze on him.

“i have questions,” Sans said after a moment of just watching them.

Frisk swallowed and braced themself.

“first… i get this conversation is a hard one,” Sans said. “i’m not gonna force you to answer anything. if ever it’s too much, we can just drop it.”

Frisk writhed, feeling overwhelmed.

“And… by drop it, I assume that also would mean definitely not doing it,” Frisk said, hiding their face again.

“naturally,” Sans said.

The burning heat in their veins was somehow stronger than their embarrassment. There was absolutely nothing that would stop them from… making this option available to him. No matter how embarrassed they got, no matter what he said.

“I’ll answer any and all questions,” Frisk said.

“kid…” Sans said and sighed. “guess i probably shouldn’t call you that.”

He suddenly winked mischievously.

“unless you wanna call me daddy.”

“Oh my god, no, Sans, you can’t do that to me,” Frisk said, half shrieking and hiding under a couch cushion.

Sans just laughed. Frisk tried to glare a laser through the couch cushion, which was not a power they’d ever gotten, but would be remarkably convenient right now.

Frisk wondered if Sans was actually into that sort of thing, or if he was just messing with them. With a sinking feeling, they realized it almost didn’t matter. There was no escape. Not without giving up. Which meant there was no escape.

“honestly, though,” Sans said. “this isn’t like the other experiments. we’re not even going to clear the air about this topic if it’s out of obligation. i’m telling you outright. if you don’t want to be here, if you don’t want to have this conversation, if you don’t want any part of this, we’re dropping it.”

Oh. Yeah, they had been obviously subservient to Sans. They could see how he’d be worried that they were… sort of prostituting themselves to the goal. Which, frankly, Frisk would do without a second thought. If Sans wanted them to have sex with someone - Sans himself, or anyone he chose, why would they refuse?

Did he maybe not realize that they… wanted him? He might not. It might be hard to distinguish between desire to serve and desire for sex, especially since they had been trying to hide it, to not pressure him at all. And when one was a target of sexual interest, it was really common to have a hard time seeing it, even if it’s obvious to an outsider.

They could be brave. They would let him know. They pulled out from under the cushion and took a trembling breath, looking Sans straight in the eye.

“I want this,” they said, their voice burning and rough.

His grin widened and he sat down on the couch, breathing out a contented sigh, looking completely relaxed and comfortable, the smug bastard.

“oh?” he asked as he sat. “you wanna jump these bones?”

Embarrassment surged and Frisk couldn’t help but let out another shriek.

But he’d asked, and they would not give up.

“Yes,” they said, as soon as they could find the strength to speak.

Sans was silent, looking contemplative.

“i’m gonna be straight with you,” he said after a moment. “i have done my best not to think about anything sexual regarding you pretty much ever. the power dynamic between us isn’t exactly, uh, standard. i’m a lot older than you. the fact that you’re eager to obey me in what seems like absolutely every way makes things a little… ethically ambiguous.”

Did that mean he was making himself not think of them sexually; as in, that was what he’d want to do? Or that he was kind of repulsed by the idea and avoided it? Was it just ethics that held him back?

Nothing else to do but encourage him to continue. They nodded.

“i’m pretty sure i know the answer, but i feel i still have to ask. out of a sense of obligation to me… is there anything you wouldn’t do?” Sans asked.

Their mind blanked on the question. It was almost hard to comprehend. Either their mind blanked out on the idea of him actually giving an order, or they’d obey it. But there were things they wouldn’t do. Probably.

“I can’t imagine literally anything that you might actually ask that I’d refuse,” Frisk said. “Like, if you asked me to kill Papyrus and have it stick, I don’t think I could do that. Maybe if there was a damned good reason, but the idea of you asking that seems even more impossible than doing it.”

“heh,” Sans said. “what about sexual things?”

A delightful shudder ran through them at the question.

“Literally anything,” Frisk said without hesitation.

“and that right there is the problem,” Sans said with a sigh. “i know you are, uh, committed. to me. to your course in life. but you aren’t a sex toy for me to use and discard at will.”

Holy fuck that was hot. Images flooded Frisk’s mind and they struggled to stay still.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“I could be,” Frisk said, blushing intensely.

“i don’t want you to be,” Sans said after a little sigh.

That was a shame.

“Then I won’t,” Frisk said.

“it matters to me what you actually want,” Sans said. “and why.”

“That matters to me, too,” Frisk said quietly. “What you want, I mean. And why. It matters to me a lot.”

“i don’t know what i want,” Sans said, his expression unreadable. “you’ll have to wait to find out. but it sounds like you already know what you want.”

He didn’t know… which meant that he wasn’t so opposed to the idea that the answer was easy. And he’d mentioned ethical problems before. Not revulsion.

“But you haven’t cut this conversation off,” Frisk said. “It’s… something that it’s possible you’ll agree to.”

“i’m making no promises either way,” Sans said. “don’t get your hopes up.”

Frisk knew that they couldn’t use resets to cheat, but deep down, they’d developed a faith that if something they wanted was possible, then it was inevitable. As long as they didn’t give up, which was never going to happen.

“Too late,” they said with a cheeky grin.

“you really want me to… bone you?” he asked with an exaggerated wink.

His previous comment about them being a sex toy had lit a fire in their blood that raged and burned. Being asked so directly… yes, it was just a pun, but still… they found their embarrassment being burned away by sheer, naked desire.

They laughed at his joke, the sound oddly rich and throaty. Then they grinned at him. He had asked his question, and he would have his answer.

“Yes, I do,” they said, and the answer just kept coming. “I’ve fantasized about it so much that I was honestly afraid that I was blinded, that I was seeing a possible solution where none existed. That I was subconsciously using the idea as a way of getting what I want, even if it’s insane and impractical. That’s why it’s taken so long for me to approach you. I wanted to make sure it seemed actually viable.”

Maybe that was too much. Sans seemed to stretch a little, settling into a more comfortable position with a bit of a huff.

“if it’s something you wanted that badly, why didn’t you let me know before?” he asked.

That was a much less sexy question, and also kind of a hard one. Also, seriously, did he not realize how difficult this was? Bah. Well, Frisk would focus on the more serious side of the answer, because honestly, embarrassment was nothing compared to that.

“Because you owe me nothing,” Frisk said seriously. “I love you. I want you. But I have no claim on you, no hold on you. You have given me everything, and I killed the version of you that maybe might have loved me back. I can ask to pursue plans related to our objective - that seems fair. But everything else… it is yours to decide what we are. Friends, enemies, lovers, friends with benefits, friends where one is an occasional sex toy to be used and discarded. Anything.”

“that is really not healthy,” Sans said with a sigh.

“I am not healthy,” Frisk said. “What I am is utterly and entirely yours, Sans. And while I like some ideas more than others, I’m not really… opposed… to any option that includes you boning me. At all.”

Quite the contrary. Frisk was increasingly having trouble staying focused.

Well. Focused on some things.

“what is it you really want?” Sans asked.

Hnng. That was a really awkward question at this exact moment.

“You… sure you want to know?” Frisk asked uneasily.

“i think i need to,” Sans said.

If it’s what he wanted, then it’s what he’d have.

Oh, this would be uncomfortable. They braced themself and poured it all out.

“I want a hundred million things, many of which are completely incompatible,” they said. “I want to be your lover. The one you love. But also, what you said about being a sex toy that you use and discard… that was way hotter than I’d expected, and I find that I want that, too. Or a sex slave, or a million other things.

“But what I think it all boils down to…”

They hesitated, trying to find the right way to word this. They took a breath and continued.

“Wise or not, sane or not… and I know it’s probably ‘not’ for both of those… I’ve committed myself to you, heart and soul,” they said. “I want to be yours. Part of me wants to say ‘in any capacity,’ but that’s not true. If you wanted me as a personal assassin, I’d do it, but that doesn’t… seem like a happy future.”

His eyes were dark and thoughtful, but Frisk just couldn’t tell what he was thinking. They wanted to know, so badly.

But he had asked, and so they answered.

“I want… to be yours. Personally. I want you to feel like you can trust me. Tell me things, rely on me, on both a personal and pragmatic level. I want you to tell me jokes, and share secrets, and laugh with me. I want you to care about me personally. To deeply care.”

They had some of what they wanted. He did seem to enjoy their company, but they didn’t really have faith, deep down, that he wanted to spend time with them because he actually really liked them, rather than because they were an easy option. He talked to them about some things, but they had no idea how much he really trusted them.

When they’d killed him a month ago - and wasn’t that memory a relic of nightmares - he’d said he trusted them. But trust was complicated. He almost certainly did, in some ways. He seemed to honestly believe that they’d obey him, for example.

But other things… Almost everything he said was superficial or business. They still had no idea where he’d come from, or what it was he’d lost. They hadn’t pried, either, but as far as they knew, he didn’t talk to anyone about that sort of thing.

They didn’t even know if he trusted them to remain loyal. For all they knew, he was worried they were too insane, and would snap and become obsessed with something else. That they could be trusted to obey in the short term, but not beyond that.

What they shared was nice… but Frisk was still afraid.

They sighed.

“Part of it is with the resets,” they said. “Right now, the only one who is… completely, 100% real to me at all times is Flowey. And he’s…”

“he’s flowey,” Sans supplied.

Heh. That was a way to put it. Frisk looked at Sans and wondered if, with his practically-magic ability to read expressions, if he’d be able to really understand what they were saying. How they wanted a guarantee of connection; of something reliable and absolute. If he had any idea how powerful the connection between them and Flowey had become, due to the shared resets, for all that their connection was tainted by… the fact that he was Flowey.

“Yeah,” they said. “I want to keep you forever at my side, to never, ever be afraid of losing you. But not mine. I don’t want you to ever feel trapped by me, held back by me. I want to be yours. Kept on a metaphorical shelf at home, or actually at your side, whatever you need, but always yours. Someone, something you can rely on, to always trust to be there for you. That I can rest easy in the knowledge that you have a simple, absolute faith that I’m yours to do with as you wish.

“I don’t know how to phrase it right, why it appeals so much. The idea of belonging to you, rather than belonging to me, if that makes sense. The idea of you trying to make yourself love me is revolting. The idea of you having sex with me, without actually wanting to, is revolting.”

They would, of course, but it would be upsetting. Really, deeply upsetting. But they wanted him to understand that their devotion wasn’t completely blind. They did have real desires and preferences, too.

“but you’d rather me love you than just use you for sex,” he said.

The question was jarring. It felt like it was crashing into walls in Frisk’s head. The idea of wanting him to be a certain way was almost even confusing - what Frisk wanted was for Sans to be Sans. If the true Sans would love them, then they wanted him to love them. If the true Sans would hate them, it would break their heart, but he should hate them.

They would prefer the love, of course, but there were a million kinds of love, and so many… they felt like they’d be happy with any of them.

Part of them, uh, objected to this sort of thinking. Part of them did, in fact, want him to feel things in a certain, rather specific way.

Honesty was hard sometimes.

“It’s… hard to answer that,” Frisk said. “It’s hard to see it that way. I want… I want the truth. I do want you to care about me, but even the word ‘love’ - there’s a million kinds of love. The love you have for Papyrus, for example, is a beautiful and powerful thing. I love so many, especially the monsters - they’ve stolen my heart in ways and to depths I didn’t even know I was capable of.

“Yes, I want you to love me… but the idea of constraining things to say that I specifically want romantic love seems wrong.”

The hard part of this question was coming, but it felt like it had to be said.

“I definitely want to have sex with you. I want you to want that. I have to admit, that is something specific I really want. A lot.”

They needed to shut up on that point before they started rambling, or worse, begging.

Unless he was into that. They’d totally beg.

“But the difference between romantic love, where I’m a lover, and a deep bond of friendship, where I’m also a sex toy… it doesn’t seem that significant to me. As long as, whatever kind of love it is, that it is true to you. That’s the part that matters.”

“be honest,” Sans said. “if your happiest imaginings came true right now, you’d prefer to have me declare romantic feelings for you, right?”

They flushed a deep red.

Oh no.

No, no, no, no, no.

He didn’t just ask that question, did he? And did he have to specify “right now?” Was that really necessary?

Oh, very no.

But he had asked, so they would answer.

… maybe with an “are you sure” first.

“U-uh, r-right now?” they asked, squeaking a little. “As in, um, right this minute? Not in a general metaphorical sort of overview idea of what I’d like, but what I’d like… right… now?”

“why not?” he asked, his voice lower than usual, and an odd smile on his face. “tell me what you’d want me to do right this moment.”

Hnng.

He had asked, they would answer.

And the imaginings in Frisk’s head shifted a little into a delicious spiral. That he might be inspired by what they said, and might make it come true, and so they weren’t just declaring what they wanted, they might actually be setting up what could actually happen… and wasn’t that what he was asking? What they found themselves imagining, most eagerly, for him to do right now?

“I, uh,” Frisk said, swallowing. “I’m… really not thinking romantic thoughts right now. Um. Kind of the opposite. I-it seems really hot that you might say that this conversation is, uh, making it hard to think and you could use some relief before continuing things. And then looking me over and deciding exactly what part of me you wanted to use. And it’s not smart at all, but for me to still be desperately writhing after you… after you finish with me, and then find out everything else you want to know, and then finally deciding that yeah, you do want to fuck me properly after all, and then I, uh, also, uh…”

Oh this was hard. Their emotions were tangling. He wasn’t reacting at all, they wanted him to react, but maybe he was just hiding his reactions, or maybe he didn’t like this, but he had asked, and oh, it was difficult, but they would finish answering, no matter how they squirmed with embarrassment and need.

“Then I f-finish, feeling you inside me,” they continued, barely able to breathe. “T-that’s what I want right now. I-it’s hard to think of a-anything else, at the moment, to be honest.”

Please, please, Sans… just do it… or give me leave to give you pleasure… or to masturbate in front of you… oh, Sans, give me something…

“interesting,” he said casually, putting his hands in his jacket pockets as he got up. “welp, you’ve given me a lot to think about. we’ll need to touch base after i’ve chewed it over.”

He was leaving? No… was the fire only in their blood? Not that he had blood. Had they just made a wretched fool of themself, writhing with obvious lust and confessing a lurid fantasy to someone who was just… curious what they were thinking?

“Please, Sans,” Frisk said, their voice pleading.

He paused on his way out the door.

What to ask? How to ask him if he desired them? If he thought them a fool, embarrassed by their sluttiness, or something…

“I know you don’t know what you ultimately want, and I know that’s what matters most,” they said. “B-but… it may not matter as much, but it matters, I… do you… I mean, in a short term, short sighted, in the moment way, do you want… this?”

“i dunno if it’s a good idea to answer,” Sans said, not turning around.

I guess I just won’t know, they thought despairingly. But I won’t be a burden, I won’t make him do things he doesn’t want to do. I can endure this.

“I… I understand,” Frisk said.

Sans sighed.

“look,” he said. “i’ll say this. i knew what i was asking, in that last question. that last order. if my interest were completely pragmatic, i wouldn’t have.”

The fire erupted again. It wasn’t a ringing endorsement, but it meant he’d intentionally and knowingly asked them a sexual question. And he’d done it because of non-pragmatic reasons. Because he’d wanted to.

“Thank you,” Frisk breathed, trembling again as they stared at him, their blood boiling and churning.

He didn’t bother to go to the door and just disappeared.

Frisk knew it was probably rude to masturbate furiously on a friend’s living room floor, but there was no way they’d successfully make it back to their house like this.